Regrets
by Rusty-Writer1
Summary: "Who are you!" She looked at him, regarding the brunette carefully. It pained her to see someone reminding her of a certain Senju. He smiled excitedly. "Senju-Uzumaki Hashirama!" And at that moment, time froze. - In which a god of shinobi is given a second chance.
1. Prologue

_"There really is no other way, huh?" Madara muttered staring at the star filled sky._

 _He lost. Lost his first battle after Hashirama._

 _He was stupid to believe he could achieve that foolish vision of his so-called "peace"._

 _Hashirama sighed, walking over to him. He laid down next to the man he called his best friend._

 _"No, not really."_

 _Madara pulled a face._

 _"Well, when you put it like that...,"_

 _Hashirama let out a low chuckle, in which Madara smiled faintly. The Uchiha had so many regrets. Could this all have been changed?_

 _Maybe signing the alliance earlier, keeping his idiotic brothers alive, not being Indra's reincarnation._

 _"Hey, Madara."_

 _"Hm?"_

 _There lowers bodies were fading now._

 _"Do you know what my biggest regret is?"_

 _Madara huffed in annoyance. "No you idiot, how should I know what runs in your pea sized brain?"_

 _Hashirama smiled, otherwise making no denials the retort._

 _Their torsos' were gone._

 _"I wish I had legalized, gay marriage."_

 _"I swear to the Sage's grave!-"_

 _"To get married to you."_

 _There shoulder's were almost gone._

 _"Hashirama, you know what I regret?"_

 _"Hmm?"_

 _"That your wish never came true."_

 _Hashirama smiled letting a tear fall._

 _ **I'm happy**._

 _He thought of their bickering like children._

 _Their battles in the war._

 _Their agreements in Konohagakure's founding._

 _ **I'm happy Madara-**_

 _He looked at his friend who let that same tear fall._

 _- **because you were at my side. Even on the other battlefield.**_

They both lived a life full of regrets.

Now they have a chance to fulfill them.

* * *

I do not own Naruto nor do I own the characters. They are Misashi Kishimoto's toys.


	2. I

I do not own Naruto nor do I own the characters, those are Misashi Kishimoto's toys.

* * *

one : start a new

* * *

 **'WHERE...WHERE AM I?'**

Eyes opened slowly and cautiously with the new found discovery. He wasn't dead and he should be. That was what he wanted, after so many years of anguish, hatred and blind vengeance, he wanted to give up. There was absolutely nothing left for him. So why? Why this agonizing torture of seeing (-not like he can see much -) breathing, (-he did still have a nose...right?-), living once again was worse than any cruel punishment.

He willed his Sharingan to take place but his vision didn't change. Actually, he searched his chakra network only to find none at all. Instead of the usual coolness running along his body, there was only the blood flowing through his veins.

'where am I?! Why- what-'

"Fret not you mortal."

Madara whipped his head around to see-

"The Sage of Six Paths," he whispered astonished. Impossible! He looked at his feet to see him standing (- is it possible to even call it that? He didn't feel anything. If anything he was levitating-) on the calm surface of the water. He looked at the man holding more powerful than him. "What am I doing here? I demand to know!"

The Sage's gray eyebrows furrowed in distaste.

"All your questions will be answered in time."

"All your questions will be answered in time."

The same exact words told to Sasuke when he was on his path for vengeance. The words that told Madara it was his turn to calm down. The Uchiha's shoulder relaxed only a bit, and he took a calming breath.

"How did I get here? How am I alive?"

"You're getting a second chance."

This made Madara detest immediately.

"What are you talking about? Send me on my way to death! Who knows?! My brothers could be having the time of their lives without me!"

"I can assure you that is not the case," replied the Sage, smoothly. Madara's anger was at its limits.

"How-"

"Listen, you fool!"

Madara's retaliation was gone without a second thought. His anger was easily replaced with mild fear.

"Will you listen?" The Sage had creases on his brow, evidence of growing stress."Your life was not the best mortal. You had so much more potential. That is why you're given a second chance at life. To fix your mistakes."

Of course, he knew that. But the people have been longing to see for decades? - Not with him. His clan, his family? - Not with him. That damn Senju?! - Not. fucking. with. him!

But his regrets? His second chance?

He was given the opportunity of having a clean slate. No blood on his hands. That want of being innocent was overwhelming for Madara.

And that was the only reason he said,

"I accept."

Hagoromo smirked. He spoke with his staff laying across his legs, arms alone wide.

"As the Sage of Six Paths, Uchiha Madara, you are to rise to your potential and wipe clean of your regrets!"

He abruptly clapped his hands with a ghost of a smile that Madara could faintly see.

"...good luck..."

* * *

My mind drew on a blank. It felt like living a lucid dream. Aware of your surroundings but not able to process it. Intangible but tangible, invisible but visible. That was the only way my mind could describe it.

I tried to think of a reasonable explanation for this (-not that I could. Many things did not make sense-). My body was hypersensitive. The stuffy, warm atmosphere felt a chilling cold but unbearably hot.

With senses in overdrive, I felt pressure on my nape and lower back, before being lifted. The cold air was replaced with a warm sensation. My hair was flattened slightly as cloth provided coverage on my head.

If I didn't know before, it was clear now. I had returned to my early stages. My first's. My Beginnings.

And how I hated it.

I could faintly understand the fact that I was carried to a new room. One that included the presence of more people. My eyes were open darting in different directions every time there was the slightest of movement.

I was handed from one person to another, hearing the muffled sound of words being spoken and the clicking of pens against wooden clipboards.

"-...go...Uchiha.."

Uchiha, my clan. A large blurry figure entered my field of vision. Pale skin with black hair pooling around her shoulders. With hair that long and features that soft, I could only assume it was my mother.

The unsettling presences of other's faded, and I was alone with my mother. She moved the collar of the hospital garments down revealing-

Oh. OH.

Breastfeeding.

* * *

A week in (- Has it already been a week? My eyes are too undeveloped to see the world yet-) and I made a shocking discovery.

My mother (-Who I had now dubbed Maid-) was cleaning up my...accident. She lifted my legs in the process when I noticed something. It was the very fact that I felt nothing.

I had nothing between my legs?

A week in and I never was able to look down far enough.

A week in and I let out a shrill scream that Tobirama could have heard from his grave. And we all know that ass has selective hearing.

* * *

My life now was a repetition of some sort.

Every morning, Maid would take me out the cage people call cribs. She would change me, feed me, and then place me in my father's office. "Bonding is why," she had said, "Purely for the fact of bonding."

And bonding we did!

Kinda'

I would sit in the corner of his office brooding; similarly, he would continue his daily activities behind his wooden desk. We had a strange tendency of staying 3 feet apart at the least. Every time the stupid Fart came into my line of vision, wails erupted from my throat and carried out through the air. He would pause and take a step back and thus, my crying ceased. He stepped forward - crying, step back - silence, step forward - bleeding ears, step ba-

Understand now?

Yes?

Well, he didn't. No, it took him all but 3 hours of the repetition of me destroying his ears and my throat and awkward silence. Honestly, I felt as if he were mocking me!

So I gave him a proper name for that.

Peasant.

And he best be ready to serve this queen.

"What is wrong with you?!"

"My opinion will not change."

"She is our daughter!"

"Yes, and as such a female," he swiftly replied, not taking a second thought of his replies. I laid wide awake in the wooden crib, handcrafted. Maid and Servant were arguing, again.

2 weeks after reincarnation, the seventh fight since my birth. Always on one topic, me. Unable to anything but listen, my resentment of this life grew more.

"You - you bastard! How dare you!"

"Mikoto, she will not have a place in this household until she proves otherwise!"

Mikoto, I have...briefly heard of that name. Married to-

"Uchiha Fugaku!" She shouted in frustration. "If you continue to act like this, I'll move somewhere else!" Her voice cracked and footsteps carried to my crib in the nursery. The small touch of fibers gingerly running through my small tuffs of hair and soft sobbing was all I could focus on. "Oh, Madara." My eyes opened wide in shock. "I'm so sorry."

Her hands hovered over me, gripping the handle of a steel kunai. Different frames of thoughts flickered through my mind by the second.

Kill. Murder. Death. Blood.

She cried endlessly, tears falling on my face.

Then the knife was brought down.

* * *

A/N:

* * *

And done! I left you guys on a cliffhanger! At school, they are teaching our class how to do suspense techniques in ELA. How did I do in that field?

Please comment, vote, and review! Stay tuned to find out, does Madara live to see another day? Well of course she does because the story would be over if she didn't but like, keep reading to see what happens...

Sneak Peak:

* * *

 _I closed my eyes as pain erupted throughout my body._

 _"Mikoto! Gah- Madara!"_

 _"How could I let this happen?"_

 _"I'm very sorry, Uchiha-sama..."_


	3. II

I do not own Naruto only my plot. Everything else is Kishimoto's.

* * *

two : giggles

 **NO PLEASE!**

Eyes wide, heart beating erratic, breath quickening- it was all too much. Madara's scream of terror clogged in her throat instead of producing through the air. Mikoto, what was she doing? She had a life to live, Madara did too. Itachi and Sasuke would never be conceived, Madara would never live for Hashirama.

The kunai only came closer. The metal glinted dangerously in the silver light of the moon. Then, it stopped and hovered above its target. Mikoto sobbed quietly, turning her back and cupping her mouth, letting out a muffled scream.

A scream that should've been from Madara, but why didn't. Maybe it was out of fear? No, a baby would scream from fear.

Madara could remember it, yet he didn't want to.

 **He glared at the man-**

 _Stop please._

 **-who let out a sickening grin. He brought the kunai down-**

 _No_.

Mikoto didn't hesitate this time, swiveling on her feet and stalked her way towards Madara. A predator feasting on its prey, was the image it could take on.

 **-and just as Madara closed his eyes-**

 _Don't make me remember._

Madara clenched her eyes reflexively, struggling against the invisible bounds that held her down.

 **-a blur of dark purple and black flashed in front at break neck speed and jumped in front of Madara. A splatter from impact hit his cheeks, mixing with the tears that raced in streams down his face.**

 _Red, so much redredredredredred-_

 **What- who.**

 _No no nonono-_

A boy, younger than him, with similar black hair, dressed in dark purple, stained red, Uchiha robes, laid on the floor in front of him. The man, a rouge Senju, was easily dealt with by Tajima.

 **The boy had features similar to his own and-**

 ** _"YUKI!"_**

 _I can't, stop. Please!_

 **-It was the first death of his sibling.**

* * *

A shout of utter shock rang through both females ears as a blur of black and blue tackled-

 _"MIKOTO!"_

The kunai was flung out her hand and landed in the crib. Mikoto held her breath in anticipation, mad thoughts running through her head.

 _KillKillKillKill_ -

The knife sliced through part of the newborn's left upper ear and two screamed. One of pain and one of dissatisfaction.

"Mikoto- gah! _Madara_!"

Fugaku stared at the woman beneath him in disbelief. Where was his Mikoto? The one who barked at him for his stoicism. The one who laughed and snorted with Kushina. The one that dragged Minato to that idiot of a redhead. The one he fell in love with. Where was she?

 _Gone_. _Gonegonegonegone_.

Blood poured into Madara's ear, muffling the sound. She wanted to hold her ear in pain, shake the scarlet liquid out, yet she could only struggle in the invisible bounds that held her back once again. Her ear- motherfucker it hurts, so much! Why did her eyes hurt now? Why did Mikoto try to kill her?

 _Whywhywhywhy_?

The blur in her sight dissipated. The sound of screeching ceased, replaced with giggles of insanity. Mikoto giggled under Fugaku's hold, giggling and giggling and giggling. Her amusement was the whole idea of the situation not being amusing at all.

The clan head watched in prominent horror as her eyes rolled to the back of her head and sunk in their sockets. Her giggling- giggling, _giggling_ \- didn't stop. No. It haunted him, echoed throughout his head. Sounded in the room.

Her composition deteriorated, reducing to a white sludge. It puddled on the ground and gave off a putrid smell of rotting produce. He jumped to his feet and away from the former woman when smoke steamed from bubbles that popped and sizzled in the liquid like substance. Fugaku then stared at his own hands that held traces of the same substance and tore a piece of his sleeve to rub it away.

More and more smoke evaporated into the air and gathered on one side of the crib. Fugaku's relief cut short and he flickered across the room and back, now holding his daughter. The smoke was more visible taking the form of Mikoto once more. She stood eyes closed in the dark room, reforming feet first.

The male took this time to check Madara of any harm or injuries . Her left side was plastered in thick red liquids that would later stain her clothes, his clothes, the floor th-.

It- it would stain a lot later.

Tears flowed in streams down her cheeks, relieving and worsening the pain the coursed and burned behind her eyelids. Her tears of water turned to tears of blood and when this happened, he looked at her eyes that had now opened in confusion of the new eruption of agony.

Her eyes were in similar of color as the liquid that fell in drops from her ear. A single black tomoe swirled in alternating speeds in both eyes. His breaths slowed and were caught in the back of his throat looking at the eyes he prided himself in.

In that moment, he had never felt so ashamed looking at them.

" **Aw LoOk at THaT**." Warm air hit his ear causing goosebumps to rise and a shiver course down his spine. He cursed momentarily and jumped to a new corner of the room. Mikoto- no, that thing was up again, and not stopping. " **Oka-SaMA wiLL BE pleAse** d," she giggled, tilting her head back. " **And SucH a SHamE, I WAs begiNNinG tO Like THIS Host."**

The mad woman fully turned to look at him. Her left side looked almost as if it had been dipped in black tar, hair unruly and green, and one of those beautiful eyes, that he loved so much, was painted gold. A smile stamped on her face that stretched to his ear. Her right contrasted in so many ways. Black eyes pleading, soft feminine features teeth clenched in muffled cries.

" **I'LL be BacK Ma-DA-ra-CHAN~**." And with that the chaos was gone. Black most separated from Mikoto and flew out an open window. The creature left leaving a stunned clan head, a petrified reincarnate, and a horror stricken mother.

* * *

Why?

He sat on a chair pushed against a wall. He sat hunched over, elbows rested on his knees, hands intertwined in front of his mouth. His onyx eyes were glazed over, staring into the oblivion. The walls were painted white as well as the sheets and blankets.

The woman who laid under the stiff clothes grunted unattractively and stiffly opened her eyes. Mikoto breathed in and out before sitting herself into an upright position. Her body was sore from the tackle and her head pounded relentlessly, but nothing hurt like the emotional and mental pain she was undergoing. Fugaku did not face her, look at her, didn't even spare a glance.

That hurt, so much.

So, she looked away from him in return. Her teeth bit rigidly against each other and her tear ducts filled. Her eyes coated in glass that threatened to break if she blinked. She fisted the blankets to relieve her self hate.

"Why?"

Mikoto looked at him eyes wide and filled to the brim with tears.

"What?"

"Why did you do it?!" shouted Fugaku out of fear more than anger. Fear of what consumed Mikoto that night. Fear of what could have happened to Madara. Fear if ...he got there...too late.

"I DON'T KNOW!"

Mikoto whipped her head to face him. Her tears made needless poke in the back of his own. Her expression made his facade break.

"Mikoto-"

"I DON'T KNOW WHY! I...I don't know, okay?" She broke down sobbing. She moaned through her tears, "Oh Kami, Fugaku, what if sh-she h-hates me-e?" Her hiccuping and wailing made Fugaku reach over and lace his fingers with hers.

"She won't-"

"I ALMOST KILLED HER!"

"Because she knows it wasn't you," he reasoned. His thumb drew circles on the back of her hand. He reached out cupping her cheek and she leaned into her touch. He let out a rare smile and brought her hand to his lips.

"We'll get through this, I promise."

"Uchiha-sama?" A nurse hesitantly stepped into the dread filled room. Her brown hair flowing slightly past her shoulders as she timidly raised her glasses. She hugged the wooden clipboard close to her chest.

Fugaku, who had seen- known her presence even from being outside the room, raised immediately, pulling away from Mikoto, who had long ago fallen to sleep. The nurse squeaked and dropped the thin peice of wood as well as the papers on it that fluttered to the floor.

"Oh my Kami! I'm so sorry!" Her face flushed a bright red hue and she bowed her head in shame. Fugaku studied her appearance with a calculative gaze. She was young- same age as him and Mikoto.

The brunette scolded herself quietly. She misinterpreted his gaze as a look of criticism. He was intimidating to all, in his early twenties- twenty four to be exact.

"Take your time." His voice was smooth causing her to flinch unexpectedly. He raised a brow at her actions, amused. He expected her hesitance to be because of his looks ( -his ego soared- ).

"Your daughter, U-Uchiha-hime, has b-been ch-checked and r-ready to visit!" She exclaimed in a rush before ducking in embarrassment again.

"Let's go." She nodded and opened the door.

"O-of course."

They walked outside of the room and into the halls towards the infirmary. She kept her head down, finding a way to navigate without looking. He followed her through the crowded halls, swerving between others.

Fugaku stared at the back of her head in confusion. How was she doing that? So he asked her.

"How are you doing that?"

She halted abruptly, turning to look at him. The brunette's head snapped up and glanced at him behind black rimmed glasses.

"W-what do y-you mean?"

"Your not looking up at anything," he pressed. Her brows furrowed in confusion before a look of understanding flashed over.

"O-oh, I'm a Sensory-nin," she stated. Self-confidence was evident, but who wouldn't be? She prided herself in-

"What's your heritage- name?"

She purses her lips, "Senju Ayame."

He choked and grunted in surprise. A sudden fuel of unrestrained hate boiled through his veins. A Senju. Her stuttering and uncertainty was because of his clan? Fugaku's ego deflated and he grunted disapprovingly.

She looked back and giggled at his angry expression.

They stopped at a door with a sign, in bold red kanji, was taped loosely onto the door.

'Infirmary'

She shuffled through the keys that hung on the string that circled her neck loosely. She fished out a silver key with a red top. The door opened and the smell of baby powder hit Fugaku.

He stepped through the metal doorway and looked through the cribs landing on the one that held Madara. She had a bandage on her ear, putting pressure on the wound. She was asleep- unconscious really, oblivious ( -or maybe not- ) to the world around her.

He reached down, placing a hand on her stomach. A deep feel of guilt settled deeply in his gut. He sighed shakily.

"How could I let this happen?"

He shook his head and held his position there. He didn't know that hours had passed in that same spot. He didn't know that Mikoto was awake and scared more than ever from the lack of his presence. He didn't know that Madara's condition was worse than it really seemed.

Eventually Ayame returned, a solemn look on her face.

"I'm very sorry Uchiha-sama, but visiting hours are over-"

He recomposes himself and stood, straightening any and all wrinkles in his clothing.

"Of course."

And with that, he left, back to the cold dreariness of his household.

* * *

A/N:

* * *

Oh my God, This was a long chapter. The story itself is more than 2000 words. An accomplishment! So let's get to the notes.

* * *

Notes:

* * *

There are a lot of inside notes I want to acknowledge. The first being Madara's panic attack with Mikoto's assault. I went, briefly, into a description of the death of Madara's fist brother. 'Yuki' is not a real character, but I feel that would be a good name for his brother and the death fit accordingly.

The first death of Madara led to insomnia and panic attacks for Madara's a kid. I personally feel that Madara was always the oldest and he lost his first brother at 8 years old, 'Yuki' being 6 or 7. I know this is a young age but this is also why 'Yuki' died so easily.

Seeing Mikoto attack hike the same way the rogue Senju did trigger that memory. And the tackle Fugaku displayed did nothing to help the situation.

Second note, Mikoto was possessed, she did not go mad. After conceiving a child, woman are emotional, so Fugaku's disapproval of Madara made it worse. Mikoto was emotionally stressed so her thoughts were easily manipulated. In her mind, she loved Fugaku and her daughter, but her daughter was also the reason for the tension between the two. So, her reasoning was to kill Madara, freeing her from the weight she would bear as the first child- a girl nonetheless- and that would relieve the tension, leading to a happy life.

Mikoto also thinks that Madara will never bond together again, and keep a distant relationship. A mother's goal is to create and raise beautiful children to fulfill their own dreams and the live the life those parents could not. So for Mikoto, she felt as if she failed as a mother already.

Fugaku is feeling a lot of guilt. He has immense pride in himself, ego. So, in his arguments with Mikoto, he knew he was in the wrong, but his stubbornness led to the continuation of conflicts. He feels and is correct, that the whole situation heavily relied on his actions.

I added a little Mikoto and Fugaku fluff because I never see that, and I thought it would be fun to incorporate that. Ayame will be important later in the book so do not forget her.

Thank you for your time!


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